


The Naming of Spies

by Philipa_Moss



Category: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011)
Genre: M/M, Oxford, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 23:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philipa_Moss/pseuds/Philipa_Moss
Summary: Jim wondered at how quickly the feeling had come on, that he wouldn’t go home.





	The Naming of Spies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spookykingdomstarlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/gifts).



His mother called him James. For the first seventeen years of his life, he thought of himself as James. When James introduced himself to Bill Haydon, Bill took a long look at him and said, “Charmed. Follow me, Jim,” and Jim followed.

Bill showed him the place where, somehow, Endicott-West’s truck had gotten wedged vertically in his stairwell. The scout had eventually cut a space in the banister to free it and the gap remained. Bill stood sideways in the space and moved his arms to grip the roughed edges of railing. “Do I blend in?” he asked.

“No,” Jim said, already smitten.

He wrote a letter home and signed it “Jim.” His mother wrote back more promptly than she ever had before, adopting a completely foreign tone, asking him whether he still planned to come home for Christmas. He had always assumed that he would, but now became wracked with indecision.

“Are you going home?” he asked Bill.

“Indubitably,” Bill said, glancing over his shoulder. There was no one. It was late a night. They would probably both have to climb the gate. “Nowhere else to turn.”

Jim could go to his French cousins, he supposed, only they hadn’t invited him. Then he was quiet, wondering at how quickly the feeling had come on, that he wouldn’t go home.

“This way,” said Bill. “There’s a window.”

And sure enough there was, just high enough to be too tall to reconnoiter alone, but, with a friend and a boost, a lanky man could slide through. This Bill did, kicking at Jim’s head and shoulders a little as he levered himself up. He turned to reach for Jim and Jim thought it was impossible at first—he would never be able to fit through as Bill had—but Bill insisted, gesturing impatiently, and so Jim grabbed hold of his arms and dug his toes into the wall. 

Somehow it worked. He was through and falling onto Bill, knocking him to the ground and off the desk where he’d been perched. There, he regained hold of Bill’s forearms. “Mad bastard,” he said.

“Set a thief to catch a thief,” Bill said, and he leaned up and, quickly and almost shyly, kissed Jim’s lower lip.

_He missed_ , thought Jim, and then when Bill kissed him again he didn’t know what to think. Instead, he tightened his grip. He rolled them over. He set all questions aside for another day and gave himself over to the business of being with Bill Haydon.


End file.
